A/N: There's a second-person narration version of this fic on Archive of our Own. This is my first Teen rated fic, but you can still tell I'm a total perv. I'm crushing on The Winter Soldier/Bucky so hard.

Edit: Thank you Lexicon04 for suggesting I provide the link to see SebStan working out. You can find it at: instagram *dot* com *slash* p *slash* oN5bOziVM7

I'm walking my usual route, which happens to pass by a gym. Which happens to have walls made entirely of glass. I'm usually pretty good about keeping my eyes to myself, despite the abundance of hot guys working out on the first floor every morning. I don't want to be rude and stare.

No, I just normally walk this slow and wear reflective sunglasses.

There's a long-haired guy using the pulleys. As if Satan or God or whoever is running the universe is purposely trying to ruin my day.

I trail my gaze down his body and notice he's wearing a tight shirt, with one long sleeve and the other sleeve cut off, revealing his straining muscles. I examine the sleeve-encased arm and notice his hand is glimmering silver.

The arms stop moving. He's staring at me.

Busted.

I pull my sunglasses off and smile sheepishly. Well, now I have to say hi.

Good thing I'm too lazy to cancel my membership, I think as I swipe my card. I'm dressed in a t-shirt and yoga pants, so for all anybody knows, I could be on my way to work out.

Bucky waves and I walk over, smiling. "I didn't know you work out here."

He casts a sly look over at me as he pulls the cables. "I didn't know you were a pervert."

"What? I don't know -"

"You were totally creeping up that sidewalk. Look at you, you're in full creeper regalia."

I touch my sunglasses self-consciously. "It's sunny, and I'm getting coffee."

"I don't know any coffee places around here."

"I do. Do you want me to bring you back anything?"

He strains on his final pull, pressing his lips together. "You want to pass me my water bottle?"

I spot his bottle on the floor a few feet away and snap it up. "Why, is it too heavy for you?"

He narrows his eyes and drags the corner of his mouth up. "Smart ass." He releases the cables and takes the bottle from me, his fingers grazing mine for a split second, but enough electricity passes between us to light up an IKEA. He tilts his head back and his Adam's apple bobs as he sucks back the water. There are a few beads of sweat pooled between his clavicles and I want to lick them off.

And then I remember his comment about me being a creeper. Maybe I should cool it for now. I look around, trying not to stare at him. A woman walks down the stairs; she checks out Bucky and then glares at me.

Oh my God, do I look like a clingy girlfriend? I feel like someone's punched me in the stomach. "I should go," I say, my speech pressured as the blood rushes to my face.

"Stay. I'm almost finished." He passes the bottle back to me. It's considerably lighter. "You can be my water girl." He wipes down the handles of the cable machine and saunters over to the bench press.

I take a swig from his bottle and taste his salt. "You sure you don't mind if I watch?"

He slides the heaviest-looking weights onto the barbell. I try to make out the numbers on each of the weights and it looks like he put on more than 300 pounds. Holy crap. "You'd be watching anyways, right?"

"No."

He laughs as he lies down on the bench and splays his legs apart. He reaches up to grip the barbell and the bottom of his shirt rides up, revealing his pelvis. His pelvic bones arrow into his shorts, which are riding dangerously low. I know he keeps his torso waxed, but there's dark hair just above his shorts and I'm not sure if maybe he missed a spot or whether that's…

"Are you sure you can lift that much?" I hope I sound concerned and not sarcastic. I don't want him to get hurt. Emotionally or physically.

His raises his head and gives me a look. "You're right." He swings his body up from the bench. "I could use more." He grabs another pair of weights and slides them on.

"No way." He's got 325 pounds on it now. I don't mean to sound discouraging, but that's seriously heavy.

He shoots me another look as he settles himself back on the bench. He smirks, but his eyes look a little hurt. "You're not a very supportive water girl."

"That's what you get for hiring a rookie."

"A rookie? Doll, you've done this before. How do you know three twenty-five is heavy?"

I try to hide my smile. "I've just never seen any other guy lift that much."

"Well, prepare to be amazed." He grips the barbell and tenses his whole body. He pushes upwards and I almost don't think it's going to happen. It looks like he's going to lift that metal bar and it's going to land directly on his neck.

He lets out a grunt and slides the barbell up off the holder. He keeps his arms straight, although they're faintly wobbly, and the bar hovers over his head. I want to cover my face with my hands, but I want to show that I have faith in him, so I keep my hands by my sides.

He checks my expression. The corner of his mouth turns up. "Why so serious, dollface?"

I open my mouth to speak, but the barbell falls down. I jump, my eyes wide.

His arms, shoulders, and pecs all contract at once, stopping the weight just before it crashes down on his neck. He laughs as he pushes the weight back up, his arms straightening.

My shoulders relax. He meant to do that. My face heats up. I hope he doesn't think I'm gullible.

"You're too easy," he laughs, slightly out of breath. He sounds like he's having sex, but all he's doing is bench presses while screwing with my mind. Which is almost as hot.

Okay, it's probably just as hot, considering it's the middle of the day, we're both clothed, and we're in a public place.

Hmm, what else could we get away with in public?

Bucky starts counting out loud, as if he knows my mind has wandered away and he needs to draw my attention to what a delicious beast he is. Like I need reminding. I could fill his water bottle with all the drool I could produce just watching him.

When I realize he's not going to kill himself, I cross my arms and shift my weight to one foot. His legs are straining, and I notice the bulge at the apex of his legs. Does this dude have muscles in his package too? My jaw loosens a little. "Maybe you should take your shirt off." The notes of my voice taste like the cotton candy clouds I'm floating away on.

"What?" he pants.

I snap back to attention. "Um, I said, maybe you should take a weight off. It looks heavy."

He laughs again, but sweat is sliding off his forehead. His face is growing redder and redder. The barbell rises slower each time, as if he's draining his energy just to impress me. I realize I could straddle him right now and, until he put the barbell down, I could do pretty much whatever I wanted to do with him.

Like pull his pants down. Is he wearing underwear? Is he wearing cologne, or does he just naturally smell this good? An image flashes through my mind: a hybrid between an Axe commercial and the movie Perfume.

God, I'm such a freak. And if God's not listening… whazzup, Satan?

Bucky lets out a long grunt. "A little help?" The barbell is a hair's width away from his neck, and he's not pushing it away. Not able to push it away. Damn it, Bucky!

I dash towards him and pull up on the barbell. Holy hell, is it heavy. My lungs squeeze out all my air, as if someone's punched me in the stomach or I've found a gif of Tom Hiddleston shirtless. "Bucky, I can't lift this!"

"Don't let go!"

I cry like Sailor Moon from the nineties. Bucky grits his teeth like Tuxedo Mask with a goddamn rose in his mouth. It's like lifting a glacier, but finally, finally, the barbell slips back up into the holder. His arms drop down, exhausted. There's a pool of sweat on his chest and, when he sits up, his shirt sticks to the moisture. Even after a near death encounter, he's still sexy.

Don't people usually get horny after near death encounters? Like, it activates your baby-making instincts because your body's like, 'holy hell, we goin' die!'

"Thanks," he breathes. He stands up and he's so much taller than me, he's like a tree I want to picnic under. And build a swing on. Basically, I want to swing from his body like an unhinged orangutan.

"Water?" I offer the bottle as some sort of sacrifice to this Tree God.

His fingers brush against mine as he accepts the bottle, transferring some of the sweat on his fingers to my fingers. He tilts his head back and drains the bottle, his full lips forming a seal around the nozzle. He sucks it back until there's only air in the bottle. Even when he passes the bottle back to me, his lips are still flushed.

I'm staring at his lips. I reach my hand out to accept the bottle and miss. The bottle drops to the floor. "Sorry," I stammer. I drop to the floor and pick it up faster than he can do that thing where someone pretends to want to pick something up, just to be polite, so they kinda bend but not really.

Bucky pulls the weights off the barbell and sets them back in their place. He wipes down the bench and bar and then walks to the entrance gate. "I'll be out in fifteen minutes, I just gotta shower."

"Should I wait by the door?"

He whips around and pulls me into him. "You should join me," he says, dead serious. He releases me and erupts in a smile. "Nah, just kidding. No dolls allowed in the men's room."

"What about those gender-neutral rooms?" I follow him to the gate.

"Don't have them here."

"Well, that's just trans-phobic or something." I watch him walk away as I head to the front door. We hold each other's gaze for as long as possible; he even turns his body to watch me. I know it'll only be fifteen minutes, but it hurts like watching the moon become erased during a lunar eclipse.

He winks at me, and then he's gone.

He comes out later with his hair damp and slicked back, his face bright and clean. "I forgot my body wash. I scrubbed as hard as I could, but I'm sorry if I still don't smell the greatest."

I weave my hand between his arm and torso and squeeze his bicep. "I think you smell amazing."

His eyebrows dart up. "Oh, okay," he laughs a little. It's rare to catch Bucky off guard. He's kinda sweet when he doesn't have a quick comeback.

I start walking. "So, coffee? Or what do you drink?"

He tugs my arm back and pulls me in for a kiss. Right there in broad daylight, even with people yammering on cell phones and buses whirring by and random babies crying, it's perfect. Just me, Bucky, and the sunshine.

He sucks on my lower lip a little before releasing me from the kiss. When I open my eyes, he's already looking down at me contentedly. I fall into him slightly and he cups my shoulders to steady me. He turns his torso and starts walking again. "Coffee, I don't know… I'm gonna need a skinny vegan soy mochaccino with -"

"Oh my God, you're so high-maintenance."

He bumps into me playfully. "Just kidding. Coffee sounds good."